Nel put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand, smiling at Ignis's back. "Turfed out of my own kitchen," she said, giving Tyki a lingering look of very insincere sadness.

"Not that I'm complaining," she added, hastily, just in case Ignis got the impression he'd done something wrong. You could never quite be sure how tone of voice might translate, after all. "I don't think a man's cooked for me since-" she trailed off, and thought about it for a long, long moment.

"I don't think a man's ever cooked for me," she admitted, with a frown. Stark had been sweet, but she hadn't trusted him in the kitchen, and then, well... It had always just been her job.